


Tony Stark & Peter Parker Oneshots

by celestial_writing



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Autistic Peter Parker, Autistic Tony Stark, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Tony Stark, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Beta Read, Other, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trans Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-08-14 01:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20184268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_writing/pseuds/celestial_writing
Summary: A collection of oneshots of our favourite father-son realtionships, some may be related - some may not be. Also, Endgame didn't happen because it's been months and I'm still upset (good movie though).Tags may change.





	1. Press Conferances are Hard

Peter shifted awkwardly between his feet, already sensing the lights and fuss of the crowd past the door. As he looked down to his hands to - hopefully - stop them from shaking, Tony came to his side.

"Hey, kid, you'll do fine, I promise." He reassured Peter.

"But what if don't, or mess up, or something." He stammered back.

Tony placed his hands on the other's shoulders to ground him, "Do you want to know why I wear the obnoxious glasses at these types of things? To divert their focus away from me so I can focus on the words better."

"Oh, wait, really?" Peter said, contorting his face. "Yeah, when I was told it I didn't really believe it too - anyway you've got it better, you've got a mask and you'll do perfectly fine."

"I hope so, thanks Mr. Stark." Peter smiled, looking back to the door.

"Kid, it's 'Tony'." He laughed clapping him on his shoulder guiding him to the door. Peter smirked,

"Actually, it's 'Anthony'," walking through the door.

The light and noise hit him like a train - breath trapped in his throat. Tony voice came ringing through his mind: 'it okay, just breathe.' That's all there was to it. Tony began with his introduction (new Avenger, changes, Spider-Man, questions) and put his hand on Peter's shoulder, the crowd never understanding the comfort.

"Spider-Man, will you ever reveal your identity?", "What training have you had to prepare?", "What's your comment on the 'Civil War'?", it was overwhelming; more so than his city. Remembering his mask. Breathing calmly. He started to answer questions coming his way and successfully too. In the corner of his eye he could see Tony's proud smile, so he smiled too. Both walked back in pride - Tony's hand still firmly on his shoulder, a small comfort, but comfort nevertheless.

Peter turned to him, "That went so well! And your advice was great, I was so surprised, thank you Tony."

"See you can call me 'Tony', and it's fine Pete, I'm really proud of you." He responded to bring him into a hug,

"Do you want to go back to the Compound and watch Star Wars and eat pizza?"

"As long as it's the place I like, the place you go to is way too fancy for pizza."

Tony comically furrowed his brow, "Actually, Mr. Parker, it's scientifically proven to be perfect pizza."

"Oh and who's by?"

"Me - as I am a world-renowned pizza expert." Tony scoffs.

"If you say, Mr. Stark."


	2. Tony and Peter in another life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter are investigating alien tech after a battle a few days prior only to find versions of Tony Stark and Peter Parker crash into their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this idea for ages so I decided to finally write. Also thank you so much for the kudos, it means a lot!
> 
> This takes place after Civil War and everyone's all good with each other.

The Avengers were gathered in the common room when FRIDAY's voice came over the intercom alerting them into action.

"Boss says there is a problem in his personal lab - with the 'Alien Tech'."

Steve was the first to respond to the call and began to head down to the lab; Nat trailing behind him. He could never get used to the long corridors and even longer elevator journeys. They came up to one of the top floors of the Tower and reached Tony's personal lab.

"You okay in there Tony, can we come in?" Steve said, FRIDAY relaying the message.

"Oh, me?" Tony said with clear panic. "I'm fine but they're not."

Steve's eyebrows fluctuated with confusion. "Who is 'them'?"

"You should probably come in." An uncharacteristically small door opened to reveal Tony and Peter then another set of Tony and Peter.

"Oh God, there's four of them." Nat mumbled to herself.

Tony (the other Tony) had a wide gaze at Steve like he had just seen God. "You're Steve Rogers."

“You’ve known me for years,” Steve began only to be cut off.

“You’re Steve Rogers, _the Captain America_, I can’t believe I’m meeting you – I loved you as a kid.” The other Tony ramble on for a few minutes. The real Tony, however, looked like he wanted death and Hell wrapped up in a bow.

“They’re the same person but from different universes – the multiverse is real!” Peter piped up.

“Of course, it’s real, kid.” Both Tony’s said in sync causing an odd sensation in them.

“You.” Said both Tony’s, still in sync.

They walked closer together; Steve and Nat easily could tell the difference between the two. The real Tony had his classic short hair, goatee, and occasional sunglasses. But the other Tony, he had longer hair which resembled more of a mane than hair, completely clean shaven, and glasses with a dark brown rim. The Peters looked relatively the same only the real Peter had a lab coat and goggles on.

“Stop.” Both took a breath to calm down. “Interrupting me.”

Nat moved forward creating a barrier between the two volcanos on the brim of eruption. “Both of you stop!” She said with a strange calmness but clear anger.

“Aren’t you Black Widow or Black Spider or something?” Tony asked – calming down a hell of a lot quicker than their Tony.

“You’re Iron Man, Tony” She said back in confusion.

He turned towards her once again giving her a look for a second too long, until the other Peter asked for him. “What’s Iron Man?”

“Is he an Avenger or something?” Tony then said referencing to the other Tony.

Steve entered the conversation again while his mind was still cotton wool from the events. “Wait, what do you do, in your world?”

“IT manager”

“And you?” Steve said to Peter.

“I’m at school, I live next door to Tony and his husband.” Peter responded slowly shooting a look to his Tony and receiving one back mirroring the same emotion.

“Who’s your husband?” Tony asked more intrigued with the life he could have had.

“Dan, what about you?” Tony said eyeing the other man’s ring.

“She’s called Pepper.”

They all spent a few minutes to gather their thoughts while the Tony’s and Peter’s started to discuss how they were different. The only thing they could come up with as a point where they split off is in the other Tony’s universe he grew up without SI – all Steve overheard was something about it going bust in the early 70’s. Both sides were astonished at the life of the other; Tony lived as a normal guy in a Queens apartment next door to the Parkers for years, had a husband, and was in the process of adopting.

“How do we get back?” Peter asked to both Tony’s.

“Just reverse what happened.” They said in sync causing a frustrate grunt by both.


	3. You Never Know it's Bad, Until it's Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's childhood and adulthood collide when neither should have happened the way they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is different to normal as I wrote this as very personal to me and there is no Peter at all - I was going to include him but I couldn't figure out how.
> 
> Also, I apologise that this is shorter than usual.

Memories surrounded Tony; a whirlwind of emotions with a deep-set numbness at his core. He wanted to show his work. A 15-year-old begging for his father’s attention only for it to be cursed as a person downfall of Tony’s personality. Rhodey liked it. A simplistic robotic project – for an expert – Tony, on the contrary, was just beginning with his only experience a silent judgement from his father. He rarely shouted at the boy. If ever. It was a screaming silence penetrating his mind while aged eyes bore into the back of his skull – that’s what bothered Tony. The silence. No shouting, no pain, only eyes but bad eyes – the worst.

The thought always came into his mind: ‘It’s not that bad, others had it worse.’ And that was enough for the active part of Tony’s mind. Not the other. He froze a lot which often ended in angry businessmen who suck the living out of life. Standing in the middle of a room, Tony felt eyes bore into him and his breath became erratic, he didn’t understand why. Or, didn’t want to; take your pick. Corners, however, where Heaven on Earth.

The team had taken down one more villain of the week, so Tony was stuck in a boardroom trying to prevent his form from melting into the chair. The team, now in civilian clothing, all nodded and shook their heads in unison and answered as if it was the Holy Grail of questions. Fury’s feet padded in precise circles around them – not to directly single people out. Other than Tony, maybe.

“Stark, why did you not follow Captain’s orders?” Fury said to Tony with eyes, **those **eyes.

His back now straight and in a calm voice, “What orders?”

The team, still in unison, sighed.

“All of them, Stark, did you forget you were in a team?” Fury said, almost screaming a silent insult.

“How can you forget these guys, with their prevalence of respect and general ‘can-do’ attitude.” It had been a hard week, no way he would admit it, but it has. And this was the icing on the cake. “You know, why should I follow these orders, what does it matter when I can do the work better on my own?”

“You are part of a team.” Cap spoke up, slicing through the tension.

His hand now buried his face but were gone as soon as they arrived, “Alright, I’m out.”

Tony was at the door before the team could shout at him, he would have taken the shouting. Or something worse. Eyes tracked along his body and observed all fears Tony held too close to his heart. He knew he was setting himself up for disaster; their eyes, just the goddamn eyes. Clawing his soul out would gather less pain in his nerves. The silence filled the darkness of his mind, a flickering light in an ocean of untouched regrets and blocked out lives he never lived. A break down was felt on the horizon but it was a flat horizon littered with blades of grass. A caged-up demon snarling behind Tony’s eyes. The team had the key hovering over the lock and were ready to pounce.


	4. Exhausted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life can leave Peter Parker pretty exhausted and sometimes it gets too much for him, but there are some reasons to this that he didn't concider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most I've written in one sitting and actually completed it, so I'm quite proud. I've been writing more in general and so my voice and skill has improved, or I'd like to think so.

My first job, I know I don’t need it with Tony Stark, it’s hell. Just boring standing behind a pizza take away counter for about four hours and picking up the phone and taking money and giving back change and so much shit that I have to do every time. It’s exhausting, so exhausting. Tony said he can make me an intern at Stark Industries and there proper, good job. Oh, no, I had to say about wanting experience and generally not forgetting where I came from – while also being Spider-Man – and doing a service to people in a more everyday way.  
  
“You know you can just quit?” Ned said, interrupting my train of though.  
  
“Technically, yes, but morally, never.” I said with a sigh, “I said that I liked it, it didn’t, but I couldn’t say that I hated it, could I?”  
  
He looks away from my eye-line while the teacher begins the lessons and us forgetting the conversation anyways. I want to enjoy the work, really I do, and all of it’s mind-numbing techniques to keep us eating and working – maybe I’ll go numb too and become like that teenager in The Simpsons with less emotion. The lessons is engaging and what you’d expect. That doesn’t mean I’m focussing on it though, I’m focussing on order and the phone calls and how I’ll have to be there in about three hours and I’ll have to take so many orders and sort out the schedule and there’s a new worker coming on and training them will be a pain. Spider-Man is like a walk in the park in comparison. I wonder what adults who’ve worked for decades would think of me (not adults like the Avengers, adults like May) probably that I’m a spoiled brat who doesn’t know the true meaning of hard work and money. Kinda true, I suppose.  
***  
School’s over. Yay, fun take away times with added grease to hands, body, and face. The walk there is a few minutes with the setting sun and darkness rolling in with the winter. It’s a small little shop – you have to walk an extra few minutes to get to the back door – with the kitchen and storeroom take up most of the space.  
  
“Peter, get your apron and get to the front, your shift started already!” David, my boss, says as soon as I enter the building.  
  
“Yeah, sorry, I got a bit caught behind at school.” I say hoping that it passes as an excuse, I was really trying to delay this with Ned.  
  
I step into the back, take off my coat, and slip on an off-white apron with more years on it than me. There’s a step at the counter and I sink my head into my arms on the counter, I gave up thinking of the grease that’s been cemented on the wood over the years and just accepting that this sweater will never be the same again. Phones ring and door bells ring and pizzas gets passed from hand to hand. Before this I never would have believed that boredom could be exhausted, but my God is it tiring. Standing here and taking orders and money is exhausting. Why? The world’s cruel joke that no jobs are easy and we’re taught from an early age that some jobs are and some aren’t, but they’re all hard.  
  
Lights flicker in the distance and a low hum and glow emits from neon lights that scatter the New York night time landscape. You can’t see sights like this in many other places. I like nature and it is beautiful to walk through, but there’s something so magnifying about man-made beauty and the safety it produces (or lack of) to all those who enter a city. The putrid stench of fat invades my nostrils and my ears are burning almost with the whistles and whirs of cheap machinery, so much for the attractive landscape.  
  
David comes up behind me muttering something about money then shows a quick look to me. Something’s wrong. I think firing is the option – a travesty I have to say – his business is failing, I’ve noticed a lack of costumers recently, like he must have done.  
  
“Is everything okay?” I say to lower the awkwardness this situation is starting to demand.  
  
He turns to me, wide eyes, “Erm, not exactly Peter, we may have to lower are standards, a new pizza place opened a block away and we just can’t compete with them.”  
  
“Oh, no, that’s...” Brilliant.  
  
“Terrible, I know, I hate to say this, but you may need to leave, I’m so sorry, I know how much this job meant to you.” He says looking down wringing his hands together.  
  
“Oh, right now.”  
  
“You can do this shift, we’ll pay you, but we can’t pay anymore, I wish I could have given you more of a warning.” It’s kinda sad to see David in this mood (normally elated), but if it means no job then I can’t say I’m too sad about it. Okay, maybe a bit mean, this job is shit though.  
  
I nod my head and continue to work for the next hour. More order, more grease, more money. May’ll be a bit disappointed, but she’ll understand; she might get angry at the “unfairness” of the whole event and claim that my rights have not been respected, I can discuss that with her though. After a few more minutes of staring at the clock until it’s my time and God to I cheer when I see my shift’s over. I try to look sad and disappointed to David, because anything else would be pretty rude, change and leave to get a bus home. Maybe life does have it’s positives to it. Regarding work I don’t think I’m ever working in a take away again because my brain feel like a grey soup of “What would you like?” except a sprinkle of exhausted has been thrown in there.  
  
On the bus ride home I can’t help but hold a little glee in a small smile. No more part time job, can’t think of a better thing.


End file.
